Operation: Foxface
by icanhascamaro
Summary: All she wanted to do was get through senior year of high school in one piece. But after seventeen year old Kai crashes her dad's beloved car into a tree, the car starts to talk to her and insists that there's more to it than meets the eye. As if that wasn't weird enough, she keeps seeing a mysterious Mustang seemingly following her around. What's a girl to do?
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Transformers. I do own Kai and her dad, and I used to drive a Ford Contour. I also do not own Taco Bell, Pepsi, Marc Jacobs, Nissan, Ford, iPad, or anything else with a recognizable brand name. This disclaimer applies to all chapters in this story, though the brands will vary from chapter to adorkable chapter.

 **Warning:** There is slight, very slight, cussing.

This story has been on my backburner for a few years now. I think it's ready. Please, enjoy Kai's story!

* * *

 _"And what do you do after you attack?"_

 _"Nothing."_

 _"Why nothing?"_

 _"Because I never stop attacking."_

 **From the movie "Enough"**

* * *

From the very first time I laid eyes on it, I hated that car. Granted, I'd been seven, but I knew I hated that car with a passion. Ten years hadn't changed anything. My dad insisted on keeping the car.

 _It runs very good,_ he had said to me _. It never breaks down. It never complains._

Now, I wasn't sure how a car would complain, but for a eighteen year old Ford (as in Fix Or Repair Daily), I had to admit that it did stay in very good condition. The paint wasn't showing any signs of rust. My dad drove it carefully, and so far it has never been in any accidents. For some reason, to my knowledge, no one has ever keyed it or bumped into it, or even dinged it with a shopping cart.

A Ford Contour. _Seriously_? My dad has a freaking love affair with it, I swear.

"Hey, Big Poppa, how about this," I didn't take my eyes off of the family iPad. "A 2012 Nissan Rogue. Wicked black, with just under twenty-five thousand miles. It's loaded to the hilt for only twenty grand."

"Nice try, Kai, but no go."

With a dramatic sigh, I rolled my eyes up at my dad. "Why? Your damned car is _eighteen years old_!"

My dad plopped down in a chair at the table. "Can you please stop swearing?"

"Can you _please_ get rid of that stupid car?"

"I already told you, I'm not getting rid of it."

"Why?" I was flummoxed. "It's so _old!_ "

He smiled at me before speaking so softly that I almost missed it. "I've got an emotional attachment to it. You know that."

Making a face, I sighed and shook my head. "You're a bit of an idiot. You know that, right?"

"End of discussion, baby."

"I'm not a baby!" I fumed. "I'm seventeen, dad, and I'm really about due for a car of my own. Don't you think?" I gestured to the iPad. "See? Like this. A Nissan Rogue that's way cooler than your nearly two decades old p.o.s. Ford."

"It's not a piece of crap, Kai." Dad ran a hand through his thick black hair and sighed again. "We don't have the money to replace it. You know that."

"We don't have the money because you keep inventing stupid stuff that people don't want!"

A flash of hurt flickered across my dad's face and I knew I'd shoved my whole leg into it. "It wasn't like that in the past."

"Dad, I'm sorry," I was mentally reaming myself out for being an insensitive bitch. "You're great at inventing stuff. I just..."

"You're kind of right, Kai," he stood up, coffee mug in hand, and shrugged. "Things aren't the way they used to be."

"I'm sure they'll get better." It sucked to have to say this, but I really had no choice. "Uh, and I figured I could take my test in the Beast."

"Really?" His eyebrows quirked up in surprise. "You? _You_ want to take your driver's test in the car?"

I shrugged. "Not much of a choice."

"Mmm, true that." His amber eyes pierced mine. "When?"

"This weekend?" I took an innocent sip of my orange juice.

"This weekend is tomorrow."

"Better now than never?"

He chuckled. "I suppose so. And maybe by Monday the state of Florida will have another driver to be afraid of."

"You're mean, you know that?" I glared at him sullenly. "Really mean."

He just chuckled again.

* * *

Operation: Foxface

by icanhascamaro

Chapter One

* * *

My name is Kai Knight, sole daughter of Niko Knight. I'm seventeen years old, five feet nine inches tall, one hundred and thirty five pounds, and a junior at Orange Grande high school. I have straight red hair that falls just below my shoulders, blue-grey eyes, and a love for swimming. I don't participate in school sports, and I absolutely, positively hate my dad's car, nicknamed (by me) The Beast.

The hot Orlando sun beat down on me as I stood on the porch and stared at the Contour. Sunlight sparkled off of its red finish as if it was mocking me. But cars don't do that, right? Still, I highly suspected this one did.

The blue from the Ford oval embedded in the grill shone in the bright sunlight. My dad had washed and waxed the Beast for me last night, even though I'd suggested that leaving it dirty might inspire some pity in my driving test guy. Since he glamorized the Beast, I figured I should at least dress the part of the winsome teenage girl and hope that dressing as such could help my chances in passing the driving test the first time. I really didn't want to have to do this test more than once.

"Could you have dressed a little more appropriately?" My dad's voice came from behind me, tainted with disappointment. "Where did you get those clothes? I know I didn't buy them for you."

"No, really?" I drawled out as I spun around to face him, with a firmly innocent expression on my face. I smoothed down the sides of my silky green shirt and blinked up at him. He was taller than me by about five inches. "I bought them with birthday money. Jeans and a t-shirt didn't seem that bad to me."

He narrowed his eyes. "Your shirt is a _little_ low cut."

Innocent expression firmly in place, I tilted my head. "Do you want me to put a dickey under my shirt?"

"A what!" The way his eyes bugged out was incredibly amusing.

"It's a little shirt thing that women put under _another_ shirt to-"

"No, I know what it is," Dad took a deep sigh and let it out slowly. "Let's just go. I don't want you to be late."

And so we clambered into the Beast, which was parked on our short driveway. I had to admit that the best thing about this car was that the a/c always kicked on super high and fast. Even though the interior of the car had been really hot when we first got in, it soon cooled down to a way more reasonable temperature.

Despite my casual attitude, I was actually really nervous about this test. I hated retesting on anything. Retesting reeked of failure and I _hated_ to fail. So as my dad guided the car along our way to the DMV, I mentally went through as many of the rules of the road as I could recall. From passing other cars, to driving on highways, to following speeding ambulances that didn't contain anyone you knew within it (not a good idea), I tried my best to know it all.

Okay, that sounded _really_ bad. I'm definitely not a know it all. My grades at school are slightly above average at best.

We were suddenly on the expressway and, despite my dad's earlier "let's not be late" spiel, we weren't the fastest wheel on the bus. My eyes flicked over passing cars in other lanes surrounding us and I sighed. "A snail's pace won't get me there on time, pops."

"Going the speed limit, baby girl," was his reply, even though I felt the car surge forward a little more.

I grinned and resumed vehicle watching. A black blur flashed past us and I sighed. "Now _there's_ a car."

"A Ferrari is not that interesting."

"Yeah, okay, maybe," I glanced over at my dad, who was focused on the road ahead of him. "And maybe something like a Lamborghini is a lot more interesting."

"Small, deliberately ostentatious, and overhyped," he said flatly, then flicked the turn signal on as we coasted towards the exit. "Definitely not worth the price."

"Is there no car you would want?" I felt my stomach clench with nerves because I knew that we were getting closer. " _Nothing_ to replace this thing?"

"Nope." He grinned at my pained groan, but didn't take his eyes off of the road. "And certainly not a car that costs more than our house."

I growled out in frustration. "Well, when I move out, I'm getting my own car."

He laughed at that. "You? Move out?"

"It'll happen," I glared at him. "Trust me on that."

Approximately five minutes passed before he would reply to me, and that was only when he pulled into the DMV parking lot.

"Well, pass this test and maybe we'll see what happens."

My neck almost snapped. That's how fast I looked over at him. "Are you for real?"

"You know," he shrugged as he pulled into a parking space, and shoved the car into park. "Maybe."

"Oh my g...No way!" My fingers, which had just about finished the act of getting myself free of the seatbelt, felt numb with what he said. It slithered out of my suddenly feeling-less fingers.

"Yes way."

How he could be so calm was beyond me. I lunged at him, pulling him into a tight hug, and almost cried. "You're so awesome, it's beyond words!"

He returned the hug. "I know."

I sat back, grabbing my purse. "Okay, okay, um, oh _crap_."

"You didn't forget your ID, did you?"

My hair felt like a mess and I smoothed at it. "No, I'm just so excited. Can we go now?"

"Ladies first."

"Yeah," I snorted, reaching for the door handle. "Let's go so I can get my ticket to freedom."

* * *

The door chimed as we walked into the building and I froze out of fear. It was only quarter till nine and there were so many people here it was ridiculous.

Dad bumped into me with an oof of surprise. "Kai, why did you stop?"

We were just inside the building and I felt him nudge me along, pushing the small of my back. "Let's go home, okay, dad?" I said in a small voice. "I don't think I'm ready."

He chuckled as he gripped my shoulders and steered me forward. "You're ready, kiddo, trust me on that."

"I don't, I don't think so, dad," I looked up at him. "This is really deep stuff, okay? I think maybe another year and I come back."

"Another year of driving you around?" He deadpanned. "No, thanks. Let's go."

"Going home?" I asked hopefully.

"Go get in line, sweetie. It'll be over before you know it." He pressed something into my hands. "Don't forget these."

The keys to the Beast felt like a ten pound weight in my hands.

* * *

The sun was just as hot as it was when my dad and I had first gone into the building. Now it was me and the driving test guy.

The guy who was _not_ a guy.

"I'll drive your car into the testing area," the older woman, by the name of Mrs. Fonera, who was heavy set and did not look happy about having to squeeze her immense bulk into the Beast. "And when we get there it'll be your turn."

Ever see the movie, _Monsters, Inc_? You know the nasally voiced female slug thing that has a beehive haircut? Mrs. Fonera reminds me of a (barely) human version of her.

A _lot_.

Right down to the voice and lazy "I don't really care to be here" attitude.

I nodded wordlessly, gulped, and handed her the keys. Luckily for me, the Beast cooperated for her and unlocked with the first click of the remote. Normally you have to have the remote almost right up against the door, even if you know there's a fresh battery in the remote (which has happened to me more than once, twice, or ten times). People think that cats are jerks. I beg to differ. This car is a total jerk.

We both got into the Beast, though it was a _bit_ of a squeeze for the madam. The car started up smoothly and shifted just as well and, faster than I was comfortable with, we'd crossed the parking lot and entered the driving test area.

She parked the car soon after entering the test area, opened the door and got out. She motioned for me to do the same.

My ears were ringing as I got out and we exchanged seats. The steering wheel was smooth under my hands but when I closed the door, the slam of the door sounded weird to me.

Mrs. Fonera squeezed her bulk in and closed the door. "First things first. Please show me, in order, lowering the front windows, and then activating the wipers, the headlights, and the turn signals."

I complied, going through the motions, and once I finished, I looked over at the woman. There was a glint in her dull blue eyes, one that made me nervous. Her smooth skin was slightly tanned, but still pretty pasty for southern Florida.

When she opened her mouth, it was like it was in slow motion. I could see spittle stretch from her lower teeth to her upper teeth (okay, that could be a _slight_ exaggeration), and she had a smudge of red lipstick on her upper front teeth.

"Drive forward." The words dragged out in a way that made her voice sound alien.

Stage fright was the best way to describe it, followed by blanking at a pop quiz. "Drive...forward?"

Time resumed its natural course. "Put the vehicle in gear and drive forward, along the road."

The road was a fake road, as the entire course wasn't on the actual road (of course). It had parking areas, wide two lanes, single lanes, and a whole bunch of stuff that was freaking me out.

"F...forward, of course," I stammered as my right hand fumbled along the gear shift. For a heartbeat, the shifter didn't want to work, and then (as I was really sweating it out - no a/c on during the test as per the rules) it worked and slid smoothly into drive.

The Beast rumbled forward along the tree lined fake street, picking up slight speed and a bit of a breeze. This street was a single lane, smooth paved, that was aiming directly for a right bend. I was good at bends, I could make the car turn, I would _not freak out this_ _ **soon**_ _._

Luckily, the bend was good. It went as well as anyone (namely, me) could anticipate.

"Good, Miss. Knight," she made a mark on her clipboard. _How_ had I missed the clipboard? "Let's try parallel parking."

I felt faint. _Well, shit, son_.

* * *

When I walked out of the DMV about a half an hour later, I was in a complete daze. Dad steered me with an arm over my shoulders as we made our way to the Beast. He unlocked the doors with the remote (which worked on the first try because while the Beast hates me, it loves everyone else) and opened the passenger side door for me.

"Unless you want to take the wheel?"

His words snapped me out of my funk. "What? No!" I faltered. "I mean, not yet. I just got the thing like five minutes ago." Actually more like forty minutes ago. It took _forever_ to get through the photo line. It was a picture I wanted no one to look at. Like, _ever_.

Dad's grin was both smug and annoying. "Not ready to unleash your talents on the world just yet, huh?"

"I'm not _insured_ yet," I reminded him with a bit of a defensive snip in my voice. "Unless you did that already?"

"Er, no."

I rolled my eyes and stood back as I opened the door, letting the hot air out of the Beast. I'd had to put the windows back up at the end of the test. "Just as I thought."

Dad opened his door, waved a hand at the heated air that rolled out of his side, and then climbed in. "Well, let's get going. How about a celebratory lunch?"

I hopped inside, wincing as my bare arm touched the sun heated metal of the seat belt. "Red Lobster?"

He fastened his seat belt and made a face as he put the key in the ignition. "I was thinking more along the lines of Taco Bell."

"Okay, sure, big spender," I was going to rest my elbow on the window sill, but it was way too hot for that. "Way to celebrate your only daughter's biggest achievement."

"Biggest achievement?" He frowned. "So does that mean you're _not_ going to get a Pulitzer or some other award?"

I glared over at him. "Let's go celebrate before one of us says something to completely ruin the moment."

* * *

We opted to eat in the restaurant, but at one of the window seats overlooking the parking lot. I sat at the booth, elbows on the table and my chin resting on my palms, and stared at the cars. Lots of cars on a sunny saturday like today. Of course, convertibles are slightly popular here.

As my dad sat down with the tray, I reached over to grab my food. I wasn't that hungry (I was still winding down from driving test nerves) and had only ordered one soft taco. Dad had gotten some huge burrito thing. I didn't think that I even wanted to know what it was or how many billions of calories had to be in it.

We unwrapped our food and began to eat in silence. The speakers overhead were piping in some random boy band song. Other people in the restaurant were chatting amongst themselves, but it was nothing but silence with me and my dad.

Sunlight glinted on my bracelet and I blinked away the glare from the sun that reflected off of it. Dad had given the bracelet to me years ago. I can't even remember a time when I'd been without it. He said it was my lucky charm, the one thing beyond me that my mom had treasured, and she had given to me before she'd died. Well, she'd given it to dad to give to me later. He didn't really go into her death, other than saying it had happened fast. But this simple silver bracelet had been a gift to me from her. He'd said **_it_ ** happened when I was three, so I really didn't remember anything of her. To add to that, we'd lost everything in a hurricane when I was six. We'd rebuilt, but stayed in the area.

It was all that we knew and, in the end, you stay with the devil you know, you know?

A flash of purple caught my eye and I looked to the right, at the parking lot. I'd initially thought it could be Cleo, with her flashy purple Eclipse, but what I saw was so much better. The object of my eye candy affection was parked two spots away from the Beast.

"Wow," I breathed out. "Now _there's_ a car."

"Huh?" My dad blinked at me, with mouth full of mashed up things that used to be animal, vegetation, and dairy. "What?"

"There," I gestured to the parking lot. "Nice Mustang."

At my words, my dad's head snapped in the direction I'd been pointing at. He moved so fast it was almost funny. When he saw the car, which was a slick dark purple convertible with a black cloth top, he seemed to relax. He actually sighed.

"What's with that reaction?" I laughed a little and looked back at the car. Two girls around my age were just getting out of it, lucky bitches. One had long blonde hair that was protected by a wide brimmed hat, while the other wore sunglasses, no hat, and had short blonde hair. Both had figures to die for. I bet they did juice diets.

The short haired girl pushed her sunglasses up on top of her head and leaned against the car, while the other blonde sat on the trunk. Shortie scowled at the other girl but said nothing. The whole thing looked weird to me. I wondered if they were dating. Not that I cared, though the one with the short hair looked a little butch.

"Earth to Kai," my dad was suddenly waving a hand in front of my face. "Wake up, or do I need to send space rangers to find you?"

"Dad, stop!" I groaned. "Why the hell did you guys call me Kai, anyway?"

"It was the nineties," he said as he chomped down on the remains of his lunch. "It was either what you have now or Cleo, since Miss Cleo was big around then. Besides, your mom seemed to think it was a fine name, and we were maybe a little drunk at the time. Of course, because we weren't _allowed_ to bring alcohol into the hospital, we were drunk on love and all of the joy that comes with the birth of your firstborn child."

Please note, I translated this from his nearly unintelligible mumbling around a mouthful of food.

"Cleo might have been better," I sighed and tried to ignore the thought of my parents drunk naming me. "Why couldn't my name be Nicole or Jacqueline or something? Isabella, even."

Food completely gone and cleaned out by a sip of orange soda, my dad fixed me with a very serious expression. "I'll be honest, Kai. Your mom loved Cleopatra, as in the Egyptian queen, but I told her there was no way you could grow up with that sort of a name. Kids would've teased you into an angsty heap."

"Or maybe I'd have grown into it," I leaned back in the seat, thinking about Cleo and her snobby, queen B life. "And maybe I could've ended up on the cheerleading squad, dating the quarterback, and driving a sexy convertible."

"Convertibles aren't sexy," Dad countered and put all of our trash on the tray. "Now, I've got some business to attend to in the men's room. You can go out to the car if you want to."

"The Beast and me?" I snorted. "No thanks. I'll wait until you get back."

"Suit yourself." He tossed me the keys anyway, which I promptly caught (regrettably, because I hit my elbow on the table to catch the damned things and, ouch, that hurt). "Go on out if you get bored."

"Don't take forever!"

"No promises."

I watched him leave and sighed. There was no way a father could ever understand about cool names or, better yet, sexy cars. Especially not _my_ dad who had a love affair with his Ford Contour. My gaze found the two girls again, who were still by the Mustang. This time both girls were standing next to the car, talking with animated gestures. They kept pointing at the restaurant and back.

It was only when Shortie looked dead in my eyes that I felt a chill along my spine. She was _really_ creepy. It was like looking into the bleak gaze of a great white shark, only this shark had on really great makeup and what looked like a pair of new Marc Jacobs sunglasses.

Then she looked back at the other girl and jerked her head in my direction, which worried me. Had I crossed their paths before? Did I piss them off? I sipped at my Pepsi and squelched that thought. No chance had I ever met them before. More than likely one of them didn't want to eat here and I just happened to be in her line of sight.

Still, I was curious.

With my Pepsi in my left hand, I got up and wandered outside. There were a couple of tables set up outside, and there were people using them, so it wasn't like I was going out to face these chicks without any witnesses. I'd just pushed open the second of the double doors and stepped into the parking lot to see that the Mustang wasn't in sight.

With a frown, I blinked. The hell? It had just been here not even a second ago. There was no way for it to just leave. The two girls had been standing by the trunk when I was walking outside.

In fact, there was an ancient looking purple jalopy in its place that was a beat up hot mess and no people near it. Had I imagined the car? But no, my dad had seen it, too. But what about the two girls? I know I'd seen them.

Or maybe I was imagining it and he played along with me. Maybe a Mustang had driven down the street right outside of the parking lot as I'd pointed out what I thought I'd seen in the parking lot.

This was turning out to be a really queerballs kind of day.

Spinning around on my heel, I went back inside to wait for my dad. If he took much longer, I'd go out to the Beast by myself.

And, eew, to that.

* * *

 _:The femme almost saw us!:_

 _:Female,:_ a patient sigh _. :They're females and males here, not femmes and mechs.:_

 _:I don't care what they're called on this slagging dirtball,:_ came the answering snarl. _:She almost saw us. We could've blown our cover!:_

 _:There's no chance she'd have figured us out. We're under perfect cover, fragger.:_

 _:Get this holo off of my alt!:_

 _:No can do. We're supposed to be deep undercover anyway. Some scout you are.:_

 _:I'm the_ _ **best**_ _. I don't need_ _ **you**_ _to tell me how to do my job.:_

 _:Whatever. You owe me a round of high-grade after this slagging nightmare.:_

 _:Unnecessary chatter. You're sure that's the mech?:_

 _:One hundred percent probability.:_

 _:We'll both keep an eye on him and report back to Lord Megatron. He will be very interested in this development.:_

* * *

My most sincere apologies to anyone living in Florida who might think "that's not how it is living here" because I do not live in Florida. I visited there once in 2007. Lovely place, but it's pretty much a faded memory. Soooo...any incorrect characterizations (especially dedicated to the weather) are all mine.

So, this is Kai's story. I hope you'll enjoy her and the story! Updates should come on Wednesdays.

Please leave a note/review/etc if you liked it!


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two - Riding Solo**

* * *

I'm feeling like a star, you can't stop my shine,

I'm loving cloud nine, my head's in the sky,

I'm riding solo

Jaaaason Derulo

* * *

At long last, I was going to take my first solo trip out in the Beast. Was I looking forward to it? Not particularly, but (not to contradict myself too much) it was a freedom I was going to enjoy as much as I could _try_ to.

After running a brush through my hair, I debated on leaving it loose or putting it into a ponytail. I was particularly fortunate that my red hair had zero texture, otherwise the Floridian humidity would've made my hair a nightmare. I finally decided to pull my hair into a ponytail. It wasn't extremely long, as it only fell just below my shoulders, but it could still easily fly into my eyes if I had to keep the windows down as I was driving.

Not a chance in the world would I ever want to tell my dad that I got into an accident because my silly hair obscured my vision. I don't think he'd be flying off the handle mad at me, but I knew that I'd never live it down, plus there was his love affair with the Beast to consider. The bond between man and (undignified) machine was strong. Before I left my room, I grabbed my two library books and held them close to my chest.

As I strode down the hallway towards my dad's study, I mentally went over what I was going to say to him. It was the truth, I really did need to go to the library. It was just that I was going to borrow _**the Beast**_. I wasn't quite sure he was going to believe that. But since he kept the keys to the Beast on him at all times, I needed to see him regardless. Do I know why he keeps the keys with him all the time? Not really. It's not some weird psycho thing. He just really loves the stupid car.

Okay, so it _does_ sound weird, but he's not a psycho.

The door to his study was closed and, as I reached up a hand to knock, I could hear him speaking in muffled tones. I hesitated, not wanting to bother him if he was talking to a client or his boss, but need trumped want and I knocked.

After a couple of seconds I heard him reply with, "Come on in, Kai," and I cautiously opened the door.

The mess my dad's office was could only be an organizer's wet dream. It was messy. Utterly and completely messy, yet my dad never failed to know _exactly_ where an item he wanted was located. It was really uncanny. There were papers, books, unfinished inventions, tools, and junk all over the place. For a small room like this one (it used to be the guest room), my dad was a master at cramming tons of crap into it.

"Yeah, I kind of need to go to the library."

He had a pencil clenched in his mouth as he flipped through a program on his personal iPad. "Uh huh."

"So, I wanted to take the Beast."

His dark eyes snapped up to mine as his jaw dropped a bit and the pencil fell from his mouth. It clattered off of the iPad and onto the table. "You _what_?"

Knowing I was in for a heap of teasing, I sighed. "I would like to take the Beast so I don't have to walk all the way over there." And besides, it wasn't cost effective to hop on the bus, not unless it was down-pouring. I really don't like the rain.

"Well, well, well," my dad leaned back in his chair. "Look who's decided to engage with 90's technology."

"Can you _not_ make a scene about this?"

"How can I not?" Dad grinned. "This is too much fun."

Glaring, I held out my hand. "Keys."

He arched an eyebrow. "Bossy, bossy."

"Sooner I'm out, sooner I'm back."

"Well, with logic like that, I can't really argue, can I?" He dug into his pants pocket and pulled out the keys. "Just try to be home before dinner, okay?"

"I'm not going to promise anything," I said as I reached out and grabbed the keys.

Dad didn't let go. "If you're not home by six, bring back something from Taco Bell or Arby's."

"Fine," I sighed and tugged the keys out of his hands.

He let the keys go and sighed. "I can't believe you're so grown up."

"Yeah, yeah, sunrise sunset," I rolled my eyes and turned to leave. "I'll be right back."

"Kai, why the flip flops?"

"Dad, seriously?" There was no chance in hell that I was going to change my outfit over his fear of flip flops. "I'm a teenaged girl in Florida! It's practically in my DNA, or at least the unofficial state rules for teenaged girls state wide, to wear these no matter where I'm going."

"Statistics prove that-"

"That statistics are boring," I said smugly and waved at him as I fled for the (relative) safety of the Beast's direction. "Tootles!"

* * *

When I walked outside, I saw the object of my disaffection parked in its spot on our driveway. The little ranch house my dad and I called home had an attached garage that actually had a space for the Beast within its dark confines. Okay, so it wasn't dark, it was just that my dad had a lot of junk in there (because to only have junk in his office was simply absurd). To be honest, if Dad was a bachelor with no kids, he'd be a hoarder. He's lucky he has me. But anyway, within all the clutter and foolishness, there was room for the Beast. Yay.

The Beast glimmered brightly in the sunshine. The red of its paint was almost a work of art, and when I trailed my fingers over the side of the car, I could feel how silky smooth it was. I had to begrudgingly give my dad props for keeping it in such good shape. He waxed it every other weekend, washed it, and detailed it. By detailing, I mean he gets into the rims with a toothbrush to get at the grime there. You'd think that Ford was running a contest for best kept piece of shit sedan.

Paint was great, the engine didn't fuss, the a/c was icy cold. Styling? There was none.

 _ **None**_.

Still and all, time to get going. I held up the remote, pressed the unlock button, and nothing happened. Pressed it again, and again, and again, getting progressively closer with each press of the button. Nothing happened until I was about an inch away from the door, and then I heard the door's locking mechanism slooooowly unlocking.

"I _really_ hate this car," I muttered as I yanked the door open. A wave of heat greeted me and I stood back and waved at it. Yeah, it didn't do any good, but it made me feel better.

The interior of the Beast was so hot it made me glad I didn't bother with foundation. It would've dripped away in here. I was really glad the seats weren't leather. The light grey cloth was really warm as it was, and I could only imagine leather would've been ouchtastic. I tossed my books onto the passenger's seat and sighed.

Jamming the key in the ignition, I lightly twisted the key to only give power to the accessories so I could roll down the power windows. A breeze that was only slightly cooler than the heated interior of the car gusted through. I was extremely happy that it as a somewhat windy day. I sat there for a moment, with my legs dangling out of the open door, as the initial heat dissipated. After about five minutes, it felt better in the Beast and I sat fully inside and closed the door.

Leaning forward, I turned the key in the ignition and the engine started with a rumbling sound that faded into a softer rumbling. Mentally, I went over my checklist for driving. Checked the seat position, latched the seatbelt in place, checked all mirrors, and locked the door. I was ready to go.

One last thing though. I cranked the a/c to max cold and felt the hot blast of air from the vents eventually shift from burning to chilling. It was so cold that it felt good against my skin. For a moment, I debated on flip flops on or off, and decided that maybe my dad had a fairly good idea. I shouldn't wear the flip flops while driving. Plucking them off of my feet, I jammed the shoes into the doorwell and gingerly touched the accelerator with my bare foot. Warm, but not hot, and the strong gusts of the a/c vents kicked from the vents for face and feet. Nice. The brake was of a similar not hot temperature and I kept my foot there as I reached for the shifter. The hot plastic of the shifter stung my right hand. I winced but kept my hand on it as I shifted into drive, released the emergency brake, and slowly eased the Beast from its spot and into the flow of traffic.

Fortunately, there was no traffic on our quiet, residential street. I was really glad for that because, while dad had taken me on further lessons after I got my license, this was my first foray onto city streets without him. It was just me and the Beast. As far as sedans went, it wasn't exceptionally powerful, but Dad kept it in great shape mechanically, so it had never let him down yet. It was boring but serviceable.

Traffic was light on the roads, which was great for eleven am on a Saturday. The library was only three long blocks away, on purely residential streets, with only stop signs to break my stride. If I'd wanted to go to Target, which was eight or so blocks away, I'd have to get into actual fast traffic, deal with traffic light intersections (some of which had traffic cameras), and crazy people who've been driving for years and years.

No thanks. I'll take the side streets.

There was a parking lot adjacent to the library itself. It was free for library patrons, which was a relief because I literally just remembered that I had forgotten to bring any cash for parking. As I drove into the lot, I saw that there weren't a whole lot of people parked there. I found three consecutively empty spots close to the entrance and eased into the center spot. I didn't have a ton of confidence yet to park between two actual vehicles. I'd practice someday, but not yet.

With the Beast fully and successfully parked, I gathered my books, which I'd borrowed for my english lit class, and stepped into the late morning sunshine. I stood beside the car for a second, carefully shutting the door (dad hated it when anyone slammed the doors shut), listened to the doors lock, and trekked into the library. It was a nondescript light tan brick, two story building, that had lovely icy cold air conditioning. The doors slid open as I stepped closer and I sighed appreciatively at the a/c.

While the parking lot had a book return bin, my books were too close to the return by date for me to be cozy with. I stood in line behind three other people and waited for my turn with one of the two clerks to check my books back in. A row of shelves lined the wall to the left of me, filled with new releases and patron favorites, and I almost picked up a brand new book titled, _The Stars and You: A Dummy's Guide to Astronomy,_ but decided against it. With school, I really had no time for leisure reading.

Finally, it was my turn, and after a quick two step process, my books were no longer mine. Hey, with fines being a dollar a day, a girl like me (re: forgetful) had to be careful.

And so, I was back outside, in the heat and humidity, and feeling pretty good about things. Should I go right home, or should I wander around a bit? Maybe practice driving in traffic a little. I was still thinking about it as I walked up to the wretched car, not even bothering trying to unlock it until I was right next to it. Of course it took a couple of tries before I heard the locks unlocking.

My hand was on the door handle when I heard a throaty growl. I looked over my shoulder to see a flash of purple and black. On the street was a Mustang convertible with its black top down. It had paused at a stop sign, and I could see a blond head in the driver's seat. After a longer pause than was normal, and I'd know that being that I was a recently approved driver, the Mustang continued on its way.

Did I dare to be stupid enough to follow it?

Of course I was.

I was inside the Beast and headed out of the parking lot before I'd realized it. I pulled out into very light traffic, behind a white Honda Accord, and followed the Mustang. I followed for a block, before traffic slowed for a red light, and it dawned on me that the Mustang was headed towards a nearby shopping plaza and, therefore, into traffic I was not ready for.

Scowling, I saw a Walgreen's parking lot next to me and pulled into the parking lot. I swung the car into an empty row of parking spaces overlooking traffic. Fortunately for me, I'd put the Beast into park, because when I looked out into traffic, where my former fellow drivers were moving along thanks to a green light, I was shocked when I didn't see the purple Mustang.

What I did see was a _navy_ Mustang that wasn't a convertible. It wasn't even close to being purple. The hell?

Second time I thought I saw a purple Mustang convertible and it turned out to not be a purple Mustang convertible. Stressing over my driving test, and driving the Beast, _**had**_ to be doing a number on me. I wondered if I should tell my dad about this.

Nah.

* * *

It was on my way home that things went badly. I was only about a block away from home when my cell phone chimed. It was on the passenger's seat and I looked down automatically to see why it had chirped. Then I stupidly remembered that I was driving, looked back up, and slammed my foot on the brakes.

Only I wasn't fast enough. Even though I'd been driving straight before I looked down, when I looked up I saw that there was suddenly a tree in the way because the Beast decided to veer to the right. It was a tree that I was aiming for, at twenty five miles an hour, that wasn't avoidable. I tried to brake and turn the wheel, but I was too close. Horror gripped me as I felt the tires go up on the slight curb and then I was jerked forwards and back as the front of the car met the tree.

The left side of my head slammed against the steering wheel and I saw stars dance in my vision. I sat back and groaned as the Beast gave a little rev of its engine, choked and fell silent. My stomach was in my throat as I threw the shifter into park, yanked off the seatbelt, unlocked the door, and got out.

' _Shit, shit,_ _ **shit**_ _,'_ was flying through my mind as I dashed around to the front of the Beast. What I saw shocked me.

The Beast was unharmed. The paint was gleaming and, as I ran my hand along the bumper, the finish was still silky smooth. Had I _not_ hit the tree? I looked at the tree, which had a wide trunk base area, and saw that there was indeed a fairly sizable fresh dent on the knobby wood. Yet the Beast's bumper was fine, unmarked.

Looking around, and seeing no one, I got back into the car and shakily turned the key in the ignition. It took two tries, but the Beast's engine growled to life and settled into its standby rumbling sound. When I put the shifter into reverse, I held my breath.

The Beast's engine made a whining sound, but the car obediently backed up when I put my foot on the gas pedal. Everything thumped as the front right wheel left the curb to return to the street, and I hoped I hadn't scratched the undercarriage along the way. But I had all four tires on the ground, where they belonged.

Putting the Beast into drive, I hastily, but cautiously, drove down the street towards home.

If there was no damage, and no witnesses, I was _never_ , _**ever**_ telling my dad I almost wrecked his beloved car.

Ever.

* * *

Naturally, when I got home, dad ribbed me for having taken out the Beast, but he was a bit shocked when he walked outside to see me washing the car. I couldn't tell him that I was washing it to remove any evidence of the Beast kissing a tree. The garage door was open, so that I might have better, and faster, access to car washing supplies, and I was also letting precious daylight into the Cavern of Doom to let trapped insects and spiders make good on their escape. No, seriously, I saw a couple of spiders running for the grass.

"I never thought I'd see the day when you would be willingly touching that car," he said in a slightly gruff voice.

"Well, don't tear up just yet," I snickered, then narrowed my eyes when a gross glob of soap suds landed on my flip flop encased foot. "I'm not waxing it like you do."

He studied my handiwork with a critical eye. "Yes, well, that _is_ a step best left to professionals."

"Which, of course, you think you are."

"Oh, I don't think it, I know it."

"And yet, modesty is not your strong suit." I picked up the hose and blasted the Beast with a harsh, cold jet of water.

"Never said it was."

"Yeah, well get going and do whatever it is you were doing before you came out to annoy me," I glanced at him from the corner of my eye. His serious, yet slightly distracted, expression piqued my interest. I shut off the water. "Okay, spill it. What's going on?"

He blinked. "Huh?"

"You've got that look on your face," I felt my interest grow. "You only look like that when you're working on something. What gives?"

"Oh, well, you know my sometimes boss?"

I made a face and fiddled with the nozzle. It had, like, seven different ways to blast water at helpless cars. It was awesome. "Yeah."

"I'm working on something for them."

Oh. Well that was _really_ big. I smiled, feeling a genuine streak of delight. "That's great, dad! What's the project?"

He sighed. "Can't tell you, Kai."

I rolled my eyes. "Okay, be all secretive and whatever. I'm only your daughter."

"And don't you forget it," he grinned, but then sighed again. "I wish I could tell you, but I can't."

"It's dangerous?"

"Kind of," his expression grew serious. "You still have that number programmed into your phone, right?"

"The one listed as 'Don't call unless shit's hitting the fan'?"

He winced a little at my language. "That's the one."

"Yup," I grinned and snickered. "You should see the picture I gave the contact." It was a picture of Gandalf from Lord of the Rings. Awesome. "And the ring tone is hi- _lar_ -ious."

The wince didn't leave his face. "That's actually my boss's number. Don't ever call it unless you absolutely have to."

"Would it get you fired if I did call and it wasn't necessary?" I emptied the bucket under the Beast and momentarily watched the soapy water as it splashed the tires before I looked back up at Dad. "Like if I said you were stuck on the pot with a bad case of the chalupas, but in reality you had just slept in."

"The chalupas..." Dad blinked again and sighed deeply. "I wouldn't be fired, but things would get very uncomfortable. So don't call him unless you need to."

"You know I wouldn't."

"Do I?" This time he grinned and shook his head a little, and I felt a little better. "Wrap things up, okay? And remember to use the leaf blower to..."

"I am _not_ using a _leaf blower_ to dry the damned car!" I hissed at him. "Dad, do you _**know**_ how stupid that looks?"

"It dries the car without scratching it, Kai!" Dad had an argument to end every argument.

"I'm not using a leaf blower to dry it."

He sighed, knowing he'd lost this battle. "Fine, then at least use a chamois to dry the car, not that lint covered excuse for a rag that you have on the porch."

"Get it for me and I will."

Can you believe he actually had the nerve to smirk at me?

He flounced towards the garage. _**Flounced**_. Hands all aflutter and skipping. It was tragic. "I shall return _a_ non."

"Weirdo," I muttered under my breath.

"I heard that!"

* * *

It was school, only school, and yet it was the last place on earth that I wanted to go to. Even though I had finally gotten my license, I _**still**_ had to take the bus to school. And it wasn't even a school bus, it was public transportation.

 _Why_ couldn't I take the Beast? Because dad didn't want me to get too hooked on creature comforts. I know, I know, stupid, right? Anyway, he told me it would build character.

He didn't know the finer points of life at high school as a girl. I mean, obviously, I know, but still and all, one would think he would remember high school, even though he went to one about a billion years ago. Luckily, there were only a couple of weeks left for school until summer break. I was so looking forward to it. I couldn't stand school. That this was my senior year was only the icing on the top of a very well done cake. I was so close to graduating that I could almost taste it.

The bus stop was at the entrance to the student parking lot. I had to walk through the student lot to get to the main building. My day was already a bit shot because, when I was on the bus, I had realized that I had forgotten my lunch. So when I stepped off of the bus (with a fair number of other car-less students), I almost groaned when I saw Cleo Harrison and her little crew gathered at her car, which was parked near the exit. Before I had seen the sleek, mystery Mustang, I'd actually drooled a little over Cleo's purple 2011 Mitsubishi Eclipse. It was a fine little convertible. I used to daydream about riding in it, driving it, with the car's top down and the wind flowing through my hair. Cleo didn't keep it a secret that her parents gave it to her on her sixteenth birthday. She didn't even care that it was a couple of years old, because it was given a custom paint job to her exact specifications.

Yes, Cleo and her crew were typical high school snobs, in her little clique of four girls, and she was an only child from well to do parents that gave her whatever she wanted. Big house, pool, beach house, gated community, clothes, electronic toys, etc. Have I missed anything? Oh, right, the boob job. Yeah, she's a typical spoiled brat, but to me that kind of made her more sad than anything.

It was sadder still that I let her bug me. I did my best to shrug off her insults and snipes, but there's only so much a girl can take, you know? There are certain people in the world that know what buttons to push on other people and get away with it.

Blonde Cleo, with the model height and weight, and clothes to die for. I wouldn't die for it but...

"Oh, hey, Kiki's here!" A melodious voice interrupted my mental rant. " _Hi_ , Kiki!"

Dad refused to spoil me, even though I knew he could (I snuck a look at his checkbook once - not _my_ fault if he left it out on his desk in his room for all the world to see it), and as such, even though he could easily buy me a new backpack once a month for every year of high school, I had to deal with a very well worn navy blue Jansport backpack to hold my books for my entire education. He's covering college in that as well, just fyi. I looked over at Cleo to see her smile broadly, exposing blindingly white pearls of perfectly even teeth. Her gum to tooth ratio was disgustingly perfect.

And she knew I hated it when she called me Kiki, which is why she did it. And I knew she would just keep on going if I kept walking, so I stopped and stared at her. "What."

"Oh, now, can't say hi?"

I frowned a little at her. "Hi."

She pouted perfectly pink lips. "Looks like someone has a case of the _mondays_." Cleo looked at her friends, who were all wearing something that was red. They weren't in a gang. No, it was worse. They loved the movie _Mean Girls_ so much, they decided that they'd all wear a certain color (in this case, red, in the movie, pink) on Fridays. "And on a Friday! Aww, girls, let's give her a pity party."

As they chorused a round of "awwww!" at me, I rolled my eyes and walked away.

"We'll see you later, loser!" Cleo laughed, then said in a chipper voice, "Can you believe her hair? I'd totally dye it if it was mine! I keep saying that, right? Yuck! It is _so_ the truth!"

Despite what she said, I loved my hair color. It was a strawberry red that shone and wasn't frizzy, for which I was eternally grateful. I could only imagine that if it frizzed, people like Cleo would run around calling my hair a clown wig. Even so, she wasn't overly mean to me. I know that because I've seen her be downright cruel to other people. Cleo was, at most, a psychological bully. She would never dirty her hands, or those of her followers, on something as lame as hand to hand combat. Her dislike of fighting was the only saving grace for those in which she found an interest in belittling.

My day at school proceeded as expected. Boring and tedious. Handed in my project for my english lit final. Dad liked to encourage me that I was bored at school because I was too smart for it, but given my mediocre grades, I wasn't as accepting of that explanation as he was to say it. Besides, parents are supposed to love you no matter what and try to pass off that bullshit as truth.

It was the natural science class I had after lunch (which was a smooshed peanut butter and jelly sandwich one of the lunch ladies gave me in an act of pity) that really threw my day into the wood chipper. It happened to be the only class I shared with Cleo, and to be honest, one class with her is too much. I had picked a seat on the right side of the room, fourth seat from the front, while Cleo and two of her clique were sitting in the rear of the room to the left side.

While we were supposed to be reading a handful of pages in a chapter dedicated to the outer planets of the solar system, my thoughts were wandering to a topic closer to earth. The Beast was a terribly heavy thought in my mind. I kept replaying the tree incident over and over again. Even though the car looked like it was in pristine condition, and it drove as if nothing had ever happened, I couldn't stop thinking about what I'd done. It was an accident, but I knew that if I did tell dad what I'd done - given that two weeks had passed since the incident - he would be seriously pissed and even disappointed that I hadn't fessed up immediately.

My dad was scarier in his "I'm so disappointed in you" speeches than any pissed off dad rant. My pops had guilt tripping down to a fine art. It was something I couldn't pull off. Maybe it came with age.

My chair thumped just then, spooking me into uttering a little "eek!" that had people around me laughing.

"People, please," Mrs. Taylor, who gave off those warm and fuzzy mom vibes that made people line up to get into one of her classes, was standing up and looking in my direction. "Settle down and give Kai a chance to respond to my question."

"You mean the one you asked her _three times_ already?" Cleo's voice was full of honey and sweetness.

My eye twitched, but I forced myself to not look in her direction. "I'm so sorry, Mrs. Taylor. I was just really focused on, uh, the reading."

"Which we finished about ten minutes ago, daydreamer."

"Enough, Cleo," Mrs. Taylor walked to the head of the row of desks I was in. "Kai, could you tell me about the orbital period of Pluto?"

"Pluto..." My mind completely blanked on her question. When I looked down at the page I was supposed to be reading, I swore like a sailor in my mind when I saw that it was dedicated to Uranus. "Uh, well, Pluto..."

"Is not Micky Mouse's dog!" Cleo laughed at her own joke, which was obligingly followed by her minions, and a few others in class. "Oooohmigosh, you are just a _riot_ today, Kiki!"

"I haven't said anything yet," I growled out through clenched teeth.

"Ex _act_ ly!" More peals of laughter which, unfortunately, garnered more laughs from the others.

As much as I tried to ignore them all, my mind was still blank. And something deep inside knew everything about Pluto, because I'd skimmed this chapter in advance, but I couldn't bring anything up.

Then I saw a sidebar about Uranus and words for Pluto came to mind.

Luckily, Mrs. Taylor seemed to see the proverbial lightbulb shine to life above my head and motioned for silence. That my fellow classmates had more respect for Mrs. Taylor than Cleo was a lifesaver.

"Pluto has an orbital period of one hundred and fifty years or ninety one thousand days."

My words hung in the air, silencing Cleo and her group. I held my breath slightly, then gasped it out in shock when Mrs. Taylor shook her head.

"I'm afraid that's incorrect, Kai. It's two hundred and forty seven years, or ninety thousand days."

It didn't take Cleo but seconds to come up with a zinger, dated as it was. "You are the weakest link! Goodbye!"

Mrs. Taylor didn't even hesitate with her own retort. "Cleo, why is Neptune blue?"

"Oh, I so know this because," she held up her hands, which had blue nail polish on each nail. "Neptune is a total fave of mine!" Without looking at the book, she gave her answer. "It's blue due at least in part to methane absorption of red light. Dur."

And I knew in my heart that she was right, even though Neptune was drawing a blank with me, too.

"That is correct," Mrs. Taylor said softly. Then in a stronger voice, she turned back to the chalkboard and began writing on it, "Since class is almost at an end for today, I want all of you to write a three page essay on your favorite aspect of the Milky Way galaxy and why. I don't care if it's a planet, star, or space junk. Have it ready for Monday." She turned back and had a smile on her face. "Make it interesting, people."

At that, the bell rang and my classmates cheered and gathered their things.

"Kai, I want to see you before you leave."

Mrs. Taylor's words brought about an "Ooooooh!" from a bunch of students, as if they were participants of a live studio audience for a crappy tv comedy. It didn't last long though, because everyone was ready to start the weekend.

Still surprised at being singled out, and also blanking out when asked a question for the first time ever, I just sat there as fellow teenagers surged around me. They filed out fast, though Cleo winked at me as she and her groupies left, and soon it was just me and Mrs. Taylor.

She walked over to my desk, and sat on the surface of a desk next to mine. "I won't say I'm disappointed, Kai, but I am sorry that I chose you for the question. I put you on the spot when you weren't ready."

"It's nothing, Mrs. Taylor." See what I mean about her being so sweet? "I wasn't paying attention. I thought I could bluff my way out." I smiled ruefully. "It didn't work."

"I know," she sighed. "I know you're smart, Kai. You're the smartest child I've taught in many years. Something has really got your mind weighed down. Care to talk?"

Counting my blessings that dad didn't know Mrs. Taylor, I shook my head. Still, I chose my words carefully. "It's nothing, really. I started driving recently and there's a lot on my mind due to it." _Plus I sort of hit a tree, and add to that I keep seeing a mysterious purple ford mustang. No biggie._

Mrs. Taylor was silent for a moment before nodding. "Alright, Kai, I remember what it was like to start driving. Really terrifying. Will you be okay to write the essay? I really only gave it as an assignment because of Cleo's mouth."

Smiling up at her, I shrugged. "It'll be okay. I don't mind writing essays." And it was true. I loved writing those suckers up. I considered it practice for writing a best selling novel or ten. You know, like _Twilight_ , only better.

"If you insist."

"I really do." I paused for a moment. "May I be excused?"

"Of course, Kai," Mrs. Taylor stood up. "Have a good weekend."

"Thanks, same to you." With that, I packed up my items and left.

* * *

It was fortunate for me that I didn't see Cleo after school, though that could've been because I loitered just a bit at my locker after Mrs. Taylor talked to me. Her class was the last class of the day. As I walked through the parking lot to wait for the bus, I saw neither Cleo nor her Eclipse in the parking lot. I was glad. I really wasn't in the mood for her drama.

So I waited for my ride home. I sat on one of the benches situated at the public bus stop with about five other kids from school, and a few older, parent aged, commuters. I didn't know any of the kids and with the bus not supposed to appear for another ten minutes, I put in my earbuds to kill some time. Soon enough, the first of many songs from the _Black Swan_ score was floating through my ears. I loved movie scores and this one was really good. The score from _The Ring_ was also really good, but at the moment I felt like some ballet movie magic.

I was one minute and thirty two seconds into a song called _Perfection_ when I saw _it_ again. The freaky purple Mustang. It was parked across the street behind a little silver sports car.

Pulling out my earbuds, I looked at my fellow students and walked over to stand next to a guy in a muscle shirt who looked like he'd know something about cars. "Excuse me," I tapped at his arm. "Do you know the name of the car that purple convertible is?"

"Huh?" He looked over and nodded. "Yeah, looks like a 2012 Mustang GT. Nice choice."

"Um, okay, thanks," I walked back over to my spot and sat down. Freaked didn't begin to cover what I felt. Relief was one emotion followed by a bit of confusion.

 _I was_ _ **not**_ _imagining the Mustang._

An idea grabbed me. I scrolled through my iphone, stopped the music, and activated the camera. I didn't see any people in the convertible (and the top was down, so duh), and I not so covertly lifted the phone and took a few close up pictures. Then I took a picture that included the silver car in front of it, and the aged blue minivan behind it.

When the bus pulled up, I got on as fast as I could and took a seat on the side of the bus that faced the Mustang. As the bus pulled away, I stared at the car until I couldn't see it any more.

* * *

The sun was hot overhead as I trudged up the sidewalk, getting closer to home with each step. I paused to readjust my ponytail, and as I lifted my arms to tighten the elastic, I almost hit myself in the eye with my bracelet. With that accomplished (fixing my hair, not unintentionally hitting myself with my own bracelet), I stretched my arms and resumed the walk. I wasn't that far from home. I could even see the driveway now.

The Beast was in the garage. The door was up and I could just see the front bumper peeking out a little as I walked up the driveway. I felt a flash of soul searing guilt as I looked at the flawless bumper. After a moment of hesitation, I walked closer and stepped into the garage.

"Dad?" As I called out, I felt a little foolish and a lot like a dumb blonde in a horror movie. It was cool in here, almost chilly, and I had to brush close to the Beast in order to avoid a pile of car tools and parts. When I touched the back of the car with my hand, I felt a static shock.

"Ouch!" I snapped my hand away from the car and glared at it. "Stupid car!"

The oddest thing happened just then. Something that felt like a pulse of static washed over me, raising goosebumps on my arms. I stood there, staring at the rear of the Beast, almost mesmerized.

"Kai?" My dad's hands reached out and grabbed my shoulders at the same time that he spoke.

"Dad!" I spun around, blinking a couple of times. "Don't scare me like that!"

"Scare you?" Dad frowned. "Kai, you were standing there, staring at the car for a while. I'd been calling you, but this was the first time that you responded to me." He cocked his head to the side. "Are you okay?"

My thoughts flashed back to Cleo, and then the purple mustang, then to getting shocked by the Beast. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just...I just had a long day."

"Okay, well, if you need to talk..."

"Dad, I'm fine."

"I'm just saying, Kai. If you feel like you need to talk about weird dreams or...or feelings in your body..."

"Dad, can you _not_!" I glared at him. "I don't need to talk about anything!"

"If someone is bugging you at school..."

"Great, now you've heard about Cleo, too?" I stepped around him, over some more junk, towards the door leading to the kitchen. "I can fight my own battles, Dad. I don't need you to fight Cleo for me."

"Kai!"

With a groan, I spun around. "What?"

He said nothing and I just glared at him.

"Well?"

His gaze fell to mom's bracelet and he sighed. "Nothing. Go on inside. Dinner's waiting."

For a second, my anger faltered, then it all came back when I remembered how frustrated I was over the stupid Mustang. With a slight growl in the back of my throat, I spun around and stormed inside.

"Don't slam the..."

I slammed the door anyway.

* * *

Aww, poor Kai's dad. Just like a dad to make things worse when he's trying to make them better.

Interesting stuff comes in the next chapter, guys. Hope you're liking it so far!


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three: Just like Amy Farrah Fowler

* * *

AN: It's still Wednesday. Erm...sorry this is posted so late! Databases and ERDs are not fun. This has got to be some sort of punishment for something I did sometime in my life. Anyone have any tips on how to create an ERD?

* * *

The very next day, I learned that I was going nuts. Full on crazy.

How do I know? Simple.

The Beast talked to me.

Yeah, I know, I didn't believe it either, and at first I thought I was imagining things. It all started when Dad muttered that he was low on the coolant he got at the auto parts store and, feeling guilty, I offered to get it for him. Because yeah, it was definitely guilt that led me to offer to get the stuff.

Also, I was pissed at myself for snapping at him in the garage yesterday and I wanted to make up for my tantrum. And maybe I wanted to have some time with the stupid car and make sure that I hadn't screwed something up with it when the Beast kissed the tree.

It was most unfortunate that I didn't know anyone who knew how to tinker with cars. My dad was great, but hello, no way. And none of his mechanical genius had rubbed off on me in any way. So a trip to the auto supply store seemed to be the best thing to do. Hopefully some gullible guy could be talked into looking under the hood and make sure that I hadn't messed up the dumb car.

Dad had been in his office all day, which made it easy to find him. When I peeked into his office, I could see him hunched over the desk, working on something I couldn't make out. It was safe to say it was something mechanical and, therefore, boring.

"I'm ready to go."

Four very simple words that had an amusing effect.

My dad startled and yelped, simultaneously failing in avoiding a shock from whatever it was he was working on. He jumped up from the stool he was sitting on, sending the little thing rolling back to bump against a nearby stack of random crap, and rubbed at his right hand.

"Could you _knock_ first?"

Since he sounded really exasperated, I did my best to sound as sorry as I felt, and honestly, I _did_ feel bad. "Sorry," I put on my best wounded puppy look. "I forgot how easily you get wrapped up in your work."

"You want the keys?"

With a nod, I moved a little more into the room. "I won't take too long."

"Please, don't," Dad fished the keys out of the pocket of his khakis and tossed them to me, which I caught. "I want to service the car tonight and I don't want to be up too late."

"Uh-huh," I said halfheartedly as I looked around another stack of stuff to try to see what he was working on. All I could see was the glint of something silver before a white and red checkered rag was tossed over it, obscuring my view. "Hey!"

"No peeking, Kai." He said it in a firm tone of voice. "It's client confidential, which means even you can't see it."

"More advanced weapons junk?" I looked up at him with what I hoped was an innocent look that probably came off as sly. "Or is it another electric apple peeler?"

"It's more stuff you're not allowed to see or even remotely know about," Dad walked forward, ushering me out of the room. "Go on and get. I need to finish up with this so I can work on the car."

"Because you're finally selling it, right?" I sighed with exaggerated relief, even though inside I was freaking out a bit at the thought of him working on the dread machine. "I'm so happy! I'll be blazing fast!"

"You'll take your time," Dad said warningly, though he had a teasing gleam in his eyes. "I know your driving has gotten better..."

I'd been practicing over the last weekend and finally, _safely_ , made it to Target and back _on my own_.

"...but I want you to stay safe."

The long suffering sigh I uttered was entirely genuine. How annoying! "So you're not selling the Beast?"

"No, Kai."

"Damn," I sighed then shrugged. "Well, I'm going. I promise to bring the Beast back in one functioning piece."

"I want you functioning, too," Dad said and swooped me into a bear hug I mock choked at.

"Need... _air_..."

With a laugh, he let me go and I fake rubbed at my throat, which he hadn't been anywhere near.

"The Beast and I will be back with some _super_ nummy coolant."

It was then Dad's turn to utter a long suffering sigh.

* * *

Because it was a Saturday, the drive to the auto supply store was blissfully uneventful. No mustangs, no Cleo, no nothing. Not even an unexpectedly red red-light at a notorious camera intersection. Even the weather was cooperating. It was warm, not humid, with a nice breeze. The sun was out, but there were a few clouds, which made it nice.

Heck, I even found a parking space that was close to the door _and_ I found the coolant easily. To keep Dad happy, I bought a case of it for him, instead of the two bottles he had requested. After loading my purchase into the Beast, and checking my hair and lip gloss, I walked back into the store and looked for a guy I could talk to. I didn't find the guy I wanted to talk to, the dad-aged man who had been at the register. He was nowhere in sight.

What I did find was a guy who looked to be my age.

"Um, excuse me?" I asked in my best "I'm a girl in an auto supply store and I'm soooo clueless!" voice, as I aimed to sound slightly like Megan Fox in _Jennifer's Body_ but not too vapid.

The guy, who had been restocking wiper blades, turned around. "Can I help you?"

"You go to Orange Grande high, don't you?" _That_ was something that I blurted it out in the utterly vapid manner I was trying to avoid and lost all Megan Fox vocal attempts. I wanted to both die and bang my head against the nearest wall. _Repeatedly_. His voice had an accent that I was madly trying to place.

But he kind of grinned. "Sure do." He had nice brown eyes and relatively neat kept black hair. "What's up?"

"I, uh, I was wondering if you could look at my car for me," I blurted out. "I kind of...well, it's my dad's car and it might have bumped a tree or whatever last weekend. I was hoping you could see if anything was wrong with it."

"You _kind of_ bumped a tree?"

"No witnesses and no visible damage!"

He definitely grinned this time, revealing perfectly white teeth that made me want to go "Hoo" like Amy Farrah Fowler did in an episode of the Big Bang Theory.

Still, I rambled on. "It looks fine, but I'm not an expert and...and I _really_ don't want my dad to find out. He'll guilt trip me to death."

"Sure, it's not a problem," he shoved the box of unpacked wiper blades onto a low shelf. "Let me go tell Jerry that I'll be outside and I'll meet you there. Where's the car?"

"In a spot really close to the door. It's red."

"Trouble making cars are always red."

I almost rolled my eyes. "Preaching to the choir, sister...er...mister."

He chuckled again and walked towards the back of the store. Again, I wanted to slam my head against a wall, but I settled for leaving the store. The hot and humid air that hit me was gross and I saw that the ground and all of the vehicles were damp. Another drive by rain burst. With all the humidity, I wanted to go back into the store, where the air conditioning was lovely and cold, but I stalked over to the Beast.

"Such a stupid car," I muttered under my breath. "I can't believe what a pain in the ass you are."

In the few minutes that passed between me reaching the Beast and the guy coming out to look at the stupid thing, I had alternated between sitting in the car and leaning against it. You know, after swiping off the rain that had beaded up on it. I was trying to figure out which pose was better, but I was getting out of the car (after having gotten back into it) when I saw that the guy had already walked out of the store and was getting very near the Beast.

"This it?" The guy stared over the front of the car before smiling over at me.

"Yeah," I chuckled nervously. "Uh, I'm Kai. Thanks for looking at it."

"No worries, Kai," he looked at the car with a critical eye. "I don't see anything wrong with it from here. Can you pop the hood for me?"

Without answering, I opened the unlocked door and reached down to tug the hood release. I'm a girl, not a girly girl, but I know enough to know where the hood release is. Obviously. I heard a soft popping sound from the direction of the hood. Standing up, I looked over at the guy. "So, what's your name? Where's that accent from?"

"Uh, it's Drake, and I'm originally from Sydney," he frowned as he wedged his fingers into the gap between hood and whatever it was. "Hood release is a bit jammed." Drake bent down a little more and suddenly I could hear the latch giving way. "Got it!"

I watched as Drake lifted the hood and pulled up the hood bar thing. Honestly, I've got no clue about cars, much less what was under the hood. I could refill the washer fluid and that was it. Nervously, I walked a little closer, standing near the left front tire. I peeked in a little and stared at the mess of mechanics.

When he didn't say anything, just stared, I got a more nervous. "Drake?"

"Oh, um, sorry," Drake chuckled a little. "I just wasn't expecting to see such a clean engine. This is a 97, right?"

"Yeah," I rolled my eyes. "Dad loves this stup...this car."

"And you don't."

"It's not exactly eye candy."

Drake laughed. "Yeah, well, that's true, but clearly someone's been taking really good care of it."

Okay, so I knew my dad was OCD about it, but was it _that_ obvious to others?

"Dad _really_ loves this car," I said with a little huff. "I didn't realize his man crush with it went beyond just washing it. Like, exterior wise."

"Oh, well, that much is really plain to see, but you can tell just by looking at how meticulously detailed the engine bay is. Everything looks brand new." Drake leaned a little closer, reaching out to brush his hand against something metal that was shiny. "No modifications, but everything is so clean."

To be honest, I almost snorted at the blatant fawning over a car. _**This**_ car. If I hadn't seen it first hand, I never would've believed someone would go gaga over the Beast as much as my dad. No, this had to be seen to be believed.

I moved closer, edging out my right hip to lean against the side of the car, and almost instantly leaped back when I got shocked. Again! "Stupid car!" I rubbed at my hip and clenched my hands into fists. I wanted to kick the car so bad, but not in front of Drake. I figured he'd take car abuse badly, seeing as how he was a guy and worked at an auto store and seemed to be developing a crush on the Beast like dad did.

"Whoa, you okay?" Drake had stepped away from the Beast with a concerned look on his face. "I saw that! That was insane!"

"Saw what?"

"I don't know. It looked like a static shock." He frowned and somehow managed to look really hot doing so. "I used to see that happen during the winter when I lived up north for a couple of years. Never really saw it here, though."

"Happens a lot more now than it used to," I narrowed my eyes at the Beast. "Actually, more after the, uh, tree incident."

Drake's eyebrows raised. "Huh. Maybe there's something loose, like a wire."

"That sounds expensive. I can't do expensive!" Silently daring the car to shock me again, I drummed my fingers in an anxious staccato against the Beast's roof. "I can do cheap and I can do free."

Drake was quiet for a moment before nodding. "Let me go to the garage and grab a board. I'll be right back."

A board? I was confused for many minutes until Drake returned with something that looked like a skateboard.

"Garage staple," he grinned, showing off those pearly whites that made me want to go "Hoo" all over again. Drake crouched down by the front of the Beast, which was parked facing the road, and got onto the board on his back, and the scooted under the car's front.

"I didn't know the car had that much clearance," I said as I walked closer. This way I was free to gawk at him as much as I wanted. For a second, I almost wished I was a car. Just not this car. Drake could look under my hood any time he wanted to.

"It's a little tight, but I can see what I need to." There was silence for a short while and then Drake scooted back out. "To be honest, I'm shocked."

"Are shocked or was shocked?"

Drake stood up, dusting off his hands on his pants. " _Am_ shocked. There's nothing wrong with the car from what I can see. Are you sure you didn't have a really realistic nightmare?"

"I'm not really sure," I winced. "Thank you for doing this."

"No worries," Drake grinned. "Glad to help out."

"Okay, well, I better get going."

"Maybe I'll see you around school," Drake's grin was just really hot. So friendly and open. It really made his brown eyes sparkle.

"Yeah, uh, that'd be great." Of course, I stood there with a stupid grin on my face.

Drake unlatched the hood support and put it back into place one handedly, as the other hand was holding up the hood. Support in place, he gently lowered the hood a bit and then let it fall. It clanged loudly, but it was latched shut. He picked up the board and waved once as he walked back into the store.

Returning his wave, I stood there for a minute after the door closed behind him and then turned to stare down at the Beast. With a little growl, I kicked the front left tire. "That's for shocking me. Jerk."

Insult said, I yanked the door open and sighed resignedly at the heat that drifted out. With a sigh, I plopped onto the driver's seat and sat there, staring for a moment at the store, gathering my thoughts. Things were quiet until after I closed the door and started the engine.

 _"I am not stupid."_

"Oh, yes, _yes_ , you are," I replied to the voice that my mind dreamed up. "You're the dumbest car on the planet and I'm just _so_ lucky to get to drive you."

The engine made a growling sound that I shrugged off. I was obviously in need of lunch. Sadly, I was without enough money, or motivation, to wait in line at either Taco Bell or Arby's. In short, I decided to make for home so Dad could get on with his lovey dovey tiemz with the Beast.

Before I left the parking lot, I popped the radio on to find a song by Lorde was playing on my favorite local station. Recognizing the song as awesome, I messed around with the ancient sound system so that the bass was up and the treble was way low. Dad loved him some treble. Ick.

So with Lorde singing about gladiators and glory and gore, I drove out of the parking lot and merged into early afternoon traffic. Luckily the traffic was still light, and there were no trees in the way, so I was able to relax as I drove the Beast. Still and all, there was a low sound underneath the lyrics Lorde was singing. I couldn't really make it out, wasn't sure if it was in the song or not, but it almost sounded like grumbling. Hopefully it was the song. I didn't need anymore consequences from the Beast kissing the tree.

By the time I pulled into the driveway, I was almost regretting turning the bass up. Almost regretted turning the radio on at all, mainly because I had heard Demi Lovato singing about Neon Lights _four songs ago_ and she was _**still**_ singing it in my mind. I parked the car and just sat there, listening to the engine ticking as it cooled.

"Demi, I really hate that your song is stuck in my head," I rubbed at my right temple. Headache go awaaaaay. "Especially the chorus. Why is it always just a couple of lines repeating?"

 _"I suppose not even_ _ **that**_ _will teach you to disobey your father's radio rule."_

There it _was_ again. I mean, yeah, dad did have a "Don't touch my radio audio dials" because he likes a lot of treble and the mega oldies station, but it wasn't as if it was hard to reset the radio to my dad's liking. To be honest, if I was a paranoid kind of girl, I'd think that my dad was messing with me. And being the handsy handsy kind of guy that he was with inventing electronics stuff, it really wasn't that hard to imagine my dad doing just that.

With a frown, I decided to be a bit paranoid. I looked all over the interior of the Beast, looking for anything that looked even remotely like a microphone/speaker combo or similar. I did find a scrunchie I'd been looking for, which had been under a rear floor mat. But nothing that looked suspicious.

"I wouldn't put it past you to have installed some sort of weirdo speaker system, Pops," I muttered under my breath. "Try to freak me out with some kind of detached voice crap just to keep me in line."

 _"You_ _ **wish**_ _it was that simple."_

The voice was cynical and irritated. Yup, kind of sounds like me, which meant that if there was no microphone or speaker thing, that I was probably really tired or about to go completely nuts. And given my situation at school, I was probably one taco short of a combination platter.

Awesome.

* * *

The next time that I heard the voice was later that evening, after dad had maintained the Beast.

Whatever it was that he did with the car, he never let me watch. Ever. And to be honest, I was quite fine with not ever watching. I couldn't think of anything more boring than to watch a car get serviced, much less be the one doing the work.

But when I had to go into the garage to get my hoodie out of the dryer, I heard a voice coming from the car that was complaining about how it didn't like the coolant, how it wished it had something that flowed better through its system, that I _almost_ freaked out.

However, I was a Knight. I wasn't about to lose my cool over something that could easily be a prank by my dad, or the warning signs of a migraine, or too little sleep. Even so, I was betting that it was a prank my dad was playing on me. He was just like that.

Standing next to the tire I'd kicked earlier, I looked around the empty garage and realized I was about to feel really foolish. The garage door was down and locked, the door leading inside the house (as it was an attached garage) was shut and unlocked, so in theory I should _not_ be feeling that awkward about what I was about to do.

But I did. A _lot_.

Still...

"So, car," I said as I kept a wary eye on the car. "If you're really the car and not my dad playing a joke on me, why did I take you to the auto supply store?"

There was a long moment of silence, during which I figured the whole thing was due to me not sleeping well. I'd just about been ready to leave and was walking away from the Contour, when a male voice came from the car, spoken so softly that I almost missed it.

 _"You wanted to ensure that I had not sustained any damage from a recent incident."_

My heart rate picked up and I froze.

 _"I believe you used the phrase kissing a tree."_

Stunned, I stared at the car. It was nothing more than a mid-sized four door sedan, with flawless apple red paint and hubcaps. Not even rims. They were _hubcaps_.

Yet the damned thing just _talked_ to me and referenced something I'd never told my dad. Still, I'm a Knight. I don't back down easy.

"And how do I know you're not my dad?"

 _"Because I am_ _ **not**_ _him,"_ came the reply, followed by _, "If I was, would you not be ordered to stay in the house for a precise amount of time until I was sufficiently appeased that your guilt was mitigated by said suspension of freedom?"_

For a second, I gaped dumbly at the car, which had just freaking _schooled_ me about the act of being grounded. "Um, you are _so_ not my dad." And then I shook my head. "But that would mean that you..."

The car said nothing when I trailed off.

"You're a stupid car." I purposely baited the thing.

Nothing.

"You..."

"Kai? Who are you talking to?"

The silence in the garage was deafening. I had a rush of emotion run through me, namely slight horror and a touch of fear, which combined into the feeling that I should _**not**_ let on to dad that I was talking to the _car_. Or that the car was talking to me. Much less about the tree kissing said car had experienced.

His beloved car's first booboo. Oh, yes, he would _love_ that.

A little awkwardly, I spun around as gracefully as I could in the slightly cluttered garage. "What?"

Dad stood in the doorway, sort of silhouetted by the light behind him. "What are you doing?"

"What do you mean, what am I doing?" Hey, when in doubt, go on the offensive, right? "I'm in the garage. I'm allowed to, right? I mean, it's our garage."

"Normally you don't come in here at all, unless you're forced to." Dad's eyes narrowed a bit. Uh oh. Meant he was thinking. "Not to mention it's eleven pm."

With breathtaking brilliance, my mind seemed to snap into action. I yawned and stretched, hiding my visual search of the garage with my actions, and my thoughts went to the first tool I saw. "Well, you know," I shrugged my shoulders and stood tall. "Just needed a screwdriver."

He blinked. "You were talking to the car to get a screwdriver?"

"Dad, _Dad_!" I strolled over to him, up the two steps to the small landing that met the doorway. I cocked my head as I stared up at him. "I wasn't talking to the _car_. That would be way beyond silly, even for me." Though silly wasn't something I normally did. I was playing it up big time. "You're doing way too much work. I really think you need a break."

With that, I ducked under the arm that was at the doorframe and walked inside. "Don't forget to lock the door!"

As I made it to the safety of my room, it crossed my mind that I never grabbed the screwdriver and he'd probably noticed that. And that I'd completely forgotten that I actually did have a reason to go into the garage.

I sighed with a lot of annoyance. I'd have to get my hoodie in the morning then, because I was not about to face that damned car again.

* * *

It was a clanging sound that woke me at three in the morning. My eyes snapped open in the dark and I winced at the stiffness in my lower back. If it wasn't an occasional headache, it was an occasional crick in my neck or a backache. It wasn't anything I wanted to worry dad with though. This was nothing more than the normal aches and pains of being a teenager.

However, normal didn't involve loud noises in the middle of the night.

When another noise came, I sat up in my bed and let the top sheet fall to my waist. I'd fallen asleep in my tank top and shorts and it seemed a bit brilliant now. No need to dress in the dark. I got up and padded to my slightly open bedroom door and peeked out. Darkness down the hallway, as it usually was this late at night. My dad's office was on the other side of the house. To be honest, it _could_ be him making the noise. He didn't keep to a schedule, much to the dismay of our neighbors. Still and all, the noise was coming from the kitchen or beyond. Not from his office.

Then again, maybe it was the car. I'd discovered that the Beast had a voice. Whether the car was alive or not remained to be seen. I'd be so screwed if the car could move on its own, even though it had never done so before.

This time the clang was accompanied with a slightly muffled bang.

Well, it wasn't like I could sleep with this noise, not to mention it seemed pretty stupid to go back to sleep if anyone was in the house that shouldn't be.

As I cautiously walked down the hallway I was glad Dad had kept the ivory colored carpeting. It muffled any sound my bare feet might have made on the floor. I rounded the bend and entered the kitchen, with its slightly cool to the touch reddish tiles. The kitchen was just as dim as the rest of the house, though to my eyes that had adjusted to the darkness, the light that edged the partially open garage door stood out like a blazing beacon.

While the clangs seemed to have ended, the low mutterings did not. Luckily, I recognized the voice as my dad's. Unluckily, it seemed like he was in the garage (duh) and not in the best of moods. In fact, he said several things that I couldn't make out beyond the familiar sound of his voice. It took on a bit of a rhythm. My dad said something, there was a thudding or a soft clang of metal on metal, and repeat. I just wished I could figure out what he was saying. He rarely got into bad moods, but when he did, yikes. It wasn't pretty. In this case, either he realized the car could talk, or he had rigged the car somehow to talk, or he'd found some sort of damage. Worst case was all of the above.

The door was open to the point where I could see him. He was at the Beast's front, with the hood up in a way that made me wonder if he knew what I'd done to the car. My face flamed a bit and I hoped that I was wrong. As the rear of the car was to me, I couldn't see my dad very well, not until he came to the left side.

The side of the Beast that I'd kicked.

Of course, if I had _known_ that the Beast had a voice, and a possible intelligence, I never would've gotten into it by myself, much less gotten my license at all. And maybe I wouldn't have kicked it. Maybe. I'd been really annoyed with it at the time.

Despite all of the times in the past when Dad maintained the car, despite never once being curious about what he did, I chose to peek tonight after the muttering the car had done. It was weird that he'd work on the car two nights in a row, but here he was.

To be honest, I didn't know if the Beast was speaking out loud or in my head, but to acknowledge that it was speaking at all seemed to me to be the first step to the loony bin or high doses of medicine or both.

Suddenly, Dad leapt away from the Beast, almost tripping over a stack of four old tires, shaking his hand and scowling at the car. He didn't cuss at it. Unlike me, Dad _never_ swore. Never hit the car either, come to think of it. He brought his hand up to wipe it with a rag he'd had tucked into the back pocket of his jeans and I saw a small, but bright, flash of red on the side of his hand.

For a split second, I felt an odd sort of amusement at his injury.

He wrapped his hand with the rag and quietly got back to working on the car.

The unusual feeling turned to a queasy turning of my stomach. How could I think that about my Dad? What the hell was wrong with me?

Something really weird was going on and I had a feeling that it was more than just teenage hormones.

* * *

So, no, the Beast isn't Ironhide, but good guess! Keep 'em coming! He is someone. :D

More Beast and Kai interactions next week :)


	4. Chapter 4

No excuses, really. I'm sorry I didn't get this out last week, and then the rest of last week was nuts, and the weekend...yikes. Who can say migraine weekend? I can! So, yeah, real life has been a kick to the rear lately.

Enjoy, please! The Beast gets chatty. Yay!

And happy friday, everyone!

xoxoxoxoxoxo

When I woke up the next morning, it became very apparent that the sun had been up for hours. Blazingly bright light streamed in from both of the windows in my bedroom, illuminating the yellow painted walls of my room, and I winced at the intensity. When I looked over at the clock on my nightstand, I just blinked stupidly.

 **11:17 am**

It wasn't rare for me to sleep in, but not even I could remember sleeping in _this_ late. There was a silence in the air that was disconcerting. It was rarely this quiet, even though it was just me and my dad living here. Not for the first time did I wish I had a pet. Maybe a cat or a dog. Heck, even a fish. Nope, dad was very against having a pet. He wasn't a grumpy "must keep the house magazine perfect" kind of dad (I mean, have I described his den and the garage lately?) that was anti-pet, he was just anti-having-one-in-the-house.

Maybe I could talk him into letting me lease a horse. Or get horseback riding lessons.

Swinging my legs over the side of the bed, I winced at the sharp stab of pain at my right temple and I rubbed at it. "Well, that should teach me to _not_ get up at three in the morning," I stood up, arching my back in an attempt to get a kink out. My back actually felt a little worse after my failed attempt at trying to pop it. "But I doubt it."

Being that it was Sunday, I planned to fully enjoy today as much as possible. I wasn't looking forward to school tomorrow and...

My eye twitched. Damnit! I'd _totally_ forgotten about the stupid essay for the stupid class that stupid Cleo got the class required to do.

"Idiot!" I muttered as I jammed a pair of flip flops on my feet. It was bad enough tomorrow was a school day _and_ a Monday, now I had an essay to write up. "And I _love_ writing up essays," I mimicked myself. "I could have easily gotten out of writing one, but no, let's be masochistic. It's fun!"

After switching my sleep clothes for a pair of shorts and a tank top, and having to remove and re put on the shoes, I left my room. "Dad!" I called it out as I walked down the hallway towards the kitchen. "Thanks for letting me sleep in, but I have things to do, one certain parental unit to..."

My words trailed off when I got into the kitchen. My dad wasn't there as I'd expected him to be.

"...to annoy," I finished my sentence with a frown. No coffee in the coffee pot (and he _loves_ his coffee), no sign that he'd had breakfast. Nothing but the glass I'd put into the sink last night after seeing him in the garage, tinkering with the Beast.

Well, it wasn't as if he hadn't been known to sleep where he works. I left the kitchen to peek into the garage. The garage door was down and the Beast was in the garage (giving off creepy vibes, by the way), but there was no sign of my dad. Still and all, there was a ton of clutter in there. He could've fallen asleep behind a stack of boxes or something.

I'd like to say it hasn't happened before, but it has. So, I decided to wade into the crap and take a look.

There's a scene in one of the _Star Wars_ movies where the characters are dropped in a garbage room. It's all gross and filled with water and questionable items floating in said water. There was also some kind of a monster in the water. That very same "a predator is stalking them" feeling I felt when I watched the movie was wafting from the Beast, and I had to walk right by the stupid thing.

"Just looking for dad," I muttered as I passed by it. "Just walking through, no need for small talk."

At first there was nothing from the Beast and it relieved me. I didn't need any sort of smart alecky commentary.

As I peered around pile after pile of junk, I made my way clockwise around the garage. I didn't see hide or hair of my dad, though I did see a few really disgusting spiders with even grosser trophies in their webs. Sick. I would love to get the shop-vac after them, but it was in a corner to the far side of the garage, covered with cobwebs, so...no.

Finally I found myself standing in front of the Beast. Hands on my hips, I stared down at it. So innocuous looking. No one could ever guess it was anything but a car, and that was what made me think it talking was all a joke my dad was playing on me.

It was when I had stopped staring at it and was walking by it, with an intent to go back into the house to check dad's office, that Trouble found its voice.

"He is not here."

"Whoa, there's some breaking news," I glared at the car. "You could've told me that before I searched this super awesome garage and spider motel."

"You would not have believed me."

Relaxing marginally, because the car didn't move or attack or do anything but sit there, I felt like what the car said was true. For a split second, it felt both incredibly bizarre and normal all at once that I was chastising myself for not believing what my dad's car was saying to me.

Got that? What my dad's car, _a_ _ **car**_ , was saying to me. In perfect English. I mean, it's a Ford, so I guess English is what it should be saying. Not that I'd know what other kind of language a car might speak. If it was a Benz, maybe German? If it was a Lamborghini, maybe Italian?

But still, it was a _car_ that _talked_ to me. A car that I didn't trust, at all. There was no way I'd have willingly believed it, and I still would've checked the garage anyway.

"Okay, so point to you." Running a hand through my sleep-tangled hair, I sighed. "Do you know where he's at?"

"Do I look like someone who even remotely cares?"

"Wow, that was incredibly uncalled for."

"I beg to differ."

"Yeah, I don't picture you begging for much, pal."

"You are _amazingly_ astute for a human."

That pissed me off, just a little. "I might just be a human, but you're just a car."

There was no answer from the Beast and I smirked. "Not so chatty are you now, huh?" I shook my head and carefully picked my way back towards the door leading inside. I'd just gotten a foot on the first step when I heard an angry engine rev from the Beast's direction. The harsh sound trailed off but didn't stop.

"I am not merely a car, silly little human. You would do well to remember that."

The words chilled me a bit, but I didn't back down. "Oh yeah? And what are _you_ , exactly?"

The engine silenced itself. "You are not yet ready to know."

My eye twitched at the corner. "Or maybe I just don't care."

There was no reply from the Beast.

With an amused snort, I went back inside the house.

 _Stupid car._

xoxoxoxoxoxo

After going back into the house, I found dad, sound asleep and slumped over his desk. I could see the edge of a gadget he was working on, and I was tempted to go in and get a closer look, but the sight of the gauze wrapped around his hand held me back. Instead, I went to my room and got started on the stupid essay.

xoxoxoxoxoxo

I got a B on the essay, while noticing, as the papers were handed back to my fellow students, that Cleo got a C.

lol.

xoxoxoxoxoxo

Two weeks passed before the Beast spoke to me again. I'm talking that I drove it, er, him many times, Dad drove me to school a couple of times, and just everything in between. But it wasn't until after I'd fueled him up at a gas station, on dad's request, that the car deigned me worthy of speaking to again.

"Do you know of some place private in which we may converse?"

Good old Beast; as formal as ever.

"I may know of a place..."

"Go to it. Now."

Rolling my eyes, I mentally brought up the directions and sighed softly. Putting on the turn signal, I took a right at the next light. Ten minutes later, I was pulling the Beast into the parking lot of a small wildlife reserve. Dad had brought me here before, which is how I knew of it, and we'd walk for miles along the trails in the reserve. It was a lot of fun and brought back good memories.

There were only a couple of nondescript cars in the lot and, on advice of the Beast, I parked far from them.

Slinging the Beast into park, I lowered the windows, only to be surprised as they rolled right back up.

"What the hell?" I tried to roll them down again, only to be met with windows that wouldn't roll down at all. "Come on, dude! I'll roast in here without the windows being down!"

"Leave the engine running. It will not tax me at all to leave the air conditioning on." There was a slight pause. "Besides, I do not want any other human to hear what it is that I am about to tell you."

"Top secret info?" I rubbed my hands together in anticipation.

"Hardly," The Master of Derision scoffed. "No other human is worthy of hearing this."

"Oh, well...cool."

"As it is, _**you**_ are hardly worthy."

I glared at the steering wheel. "Jackass."

"As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, you are hardly worthy, but it is necessary that you are informed thusly."

"Why should I be informed thusly." I purposely phrased it as a statement. The car was giving off increasingly weird vibes and it was making me incredibly uncomfortable. I get snarky when I'm uncomfortable.

"Because you are being lied to and you are not even aware of it."

My eyes narrowed. "Lied to? By who?"

"By _**whom**_. Do they not teach sparklings proper grammar these days?"

Ignoring the sparkling comment, though whatever it was it sounded like it was an insult, I huffed out an exasperated sigh. "Fine, by whom have I been lied to?"

"At the moment, that is less important than what it is I have to tell you."

Moments passed, broken only by the sound of the a/c vents gusting on high. Finally I flopped back in the driver's seat. "Dude, when are you going to tell me your big news? Today or not?"

"So impertinent."

"So _annoying_."

"Approximately one year prior to your birth, I crash landed on a planet its inhabitants had named Earth."

I blinked twice. "Say what?"

The Beast chuckled, a mirthful sound that rumbled all around me. "Ah, yes, _now_ I have your full attention."

"You landed on Earth?"

"Correct."

"As in you fell from the sky?"

The car instantly sounded exasperated. "I did not **fall** from the sky. May Primus save me from underclocked organic processors." There was a slight hitch in the a/c vents, almost a sigh of wind. "I landed on Earth after following a relatively normal re-entry process through Earth's considerable atmosphere. I landed as planned. What happened a few hours after was...unexpected."

My jaw gaped. "You're an _**alien**_?"

"Your father must be so proud of your intelligence."

"Okay, insults to my brains aside, what are you saying?" I stared at my surroundings, at what I'd thought was just a car not two minutes ago. "You're an alien? Or something?"

"I managed to elude my enemies until a time prior to the military forces of the Autobots and Decepticons colliding in battle in a human city called Chicago. I was taken prisoner by my enemies and put into a forced stasis."

The battle of Chicago was something that just about 99% of everyone on Earth wanted to forget (there _is_ that paranormal one percent that is weirder than everyone else). Alien robots attacked one of the major cities in the USA, thousands of people were killed or injured, and the majority of the central business district in Chicago had been decimated. The city was recovering, but slowly.

"Are you saying you're one of those robot things?" A shiver ran down my spine. "That killed pe...people?" The last bit came out in a whisper and I wondered if the car would kill me.

"I did not take a single human life," The Beast said, though it wasn't reassuring in the slightest. "I was placed in stasis only after being forced into this shape I am in now. I was set free by..."

"Wait, you don't normally look like a car?"

He sounded annoyed. "I normally stand..."

"Stand," I interrupted him yet again, but I was oblivious to his growing irritation. I shook my head at the thought of the Beast, a _car_ , somehow standing, much less landing on Earth after being in outer space. "No, I don't... I don't believe you."

"It does not matter if you believe me or not. It is the truth, which is unchangeable. Now, if I may finish the rest of my tale..."

"No! No, you may not," For a third time, I interrupted him, but I was so done with listening to him. "I don't believe you, I don't. It's ridiculous."

"How is the truth ridiculous?"

"Because this kind of thing doesn't happen to me! I'm a little nobody living in Florida. I live with my dad, who hasn't had a decent invention in years and..." I broke off, partially due to an emotional swell, and partially due to irritation. "Just...I'm _done_ and I'm going home."

"I am not finished."

"Well _I_ am," Angrily, I twisted the key in the ignition, resulting in an angry growl from the Beast's engine. "I think you're just...I don't know _what_ to think, but I highly doubt you're an alien robot." I turned as I put the transmission in reverse, and looked carefully around me as I backed the car out of the spot. Sitting straight in the seat, putting the Beast in drive, I shook my head. "No, there's no way you're an alien. This is just a trick, a joke my dad is playing on me."

The Beast's voice sputtered around me. "You would do well to heed me."

"No, I'd do well to heed myself," I said forcefully, as I guided the Beast back onto the road and merged with traffic. "Now, please, shut up so I can concentrate on driving."

Luckily, the car was silent the entire drive home. I needed to focus, and I couldn't.

What the Beast had said to me would be on my mind the rest of the night.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxo

Later that night, I'd just gotten done with the last of my social studies homework when dad popped his head into my room.

"Hey, Kai, you feeling okay?"

From my seat at my desk, I looked over at him and shrugged. "More or less. Why?"

He slunk into my room and leaned against the doorframe. "Nothing in particular. I just noticed you've been down tonight ever since you got back from the gas station." He raised one eyebrow. "Anything you want to talk about?"

"No." I closed my textbook and shoved it back into my backpack.

"Ooookay."

I looked back at him, surprised to see he was still standing there. "Anything in particular you want?"

"Finished your homework?"

"Yup," I tossed the pen I'd been using onto my desk.

"Want to watch a movie?" He grinned. "It's that Tom Cruise _Ghost Protocol_ movie. I figured we could laugh at the technology they use."

"Because your tech is sooooo much better," I rolled my eyes, but inside I was delighted at the thought. Dad's inventions were quirky, sometimes out there, sometimes didn't work, but he seemed to have a knack for the really technologically advanced stuff. Not that I really knew if it was or wasn't technologically advanced, but it seemed like it could be.

"Of _course_ it is!" He swung his arms back and forth a couple of times, like he wasn't sure of my reaction. "Sooo, you wanna?"

"Yes, I wanna," I got up, shoving my chair away from me. "C'mon, old man, let's go."

He immediately looked far more excited than I thought he would've. "Okay, but I'm putting extra butter on the popcorn."

"And after that, I'm topping it with cheese powder," I smirked at him.

"Not the whole jar, okay? Let's save some for the next time."

Not like it was a true worry. We both loved our buttery cheesy popcorn.

xoxoxoxoxoxo

The movie sucked, of course. I mean, yeah, it had its good and bad points, and Tom Cruise was as actiony adventury as ever, but meh. It was just meh.

After helping dad load the dishwasher, I made my way to bed at a somewhat unreasonable 11:44 at night. A school night. My dad was just full of awesome like that. So, teeth brushed and flossed, hair brushed, I slipped under the covers.

If I'd had realized the kind of nightmare I was about to have, I probably would've stayed up a little longer.

But, you can't fight off sleep forever.

My surroundings were dark, so dark that I could barely make out the person standing in front of me, but I knew he was there, knew he was male. I was standing, but my arms were held up above me with my wrists in some kind of a pair of cuffs. A band was wrapped around my waist, holding me in place to the pole behind me, and my feet were also bound by my ankles to the floor. It was uncomfortable, but bearable...for now.

"You do know why you're here, don't you?" He was a tall figure in silhouette and his voice was smooth, very cultured. He was holding something metallic in his hands that was both slender and long. Its surface reflected the scant amount of light in the room.

The sight of it worried me a little, but I set that fear aside. "I'm irresistible," I quipped, as I tried to free my hands.

The man snorted. "Hardly." He came closer, but his features were still masked by the darkness.

"Even if I wanted to say what it is you wanted me to, I wouldn't say it. Especially not to _you_." We were almost at the same eye level, he was a little taller than me, but it was easy for me to glare at him. "Do your worst." Then I smirked with far more bravado than I actually felt. "I can take it."

He smiled in a pleasant way that sent chills along my spine. "Oh, I quite intend to."

Suddenly, I could clearly see the item in his hands. He held it in front of me, turning it end over end. It was a long metallic blade. I tried to be discreet in swallowing down my fear, but I think my mask might have slipped a little.

"I don't need you conscious for this, but your being awake lends a delicious air to things. Don't you think?" A soft light flicked on near us and I could see the blade more clearly. He held the long blade in his left hand and smiled at me again. The blade looked exceptionally sharp, and very clean other than a slight reddish brown color staining the edge. "And, wouldn't you know, my little friend has brought friends of its own."

Two more blades, smaller, seemed to appear in his right hand. These were smaller, yes, but looked every bit as lethal as the first. And there were two of them. He placed the long blade down on a small table near us. I hadn't seen the table until he did so, but now that I saw it, I could make out other items on the table other than the long blade. It looked like something out of a _Saw_ movie.

Fuck.

As he walked behind me, it dawned on me that I probably wouldn't survive this interrogation. If I did, at the least I'd be seriously maimed. My every instinct wanted me to fight, to at least struggle, but I knew that I couldn't. The bonds around my wrists, torso, and legs were very efficient. I settled for taunting, hoping it would stall this man from what he was going to do to me. "You can try, but you won't..."

My words turned into a pained shriek as he drove one of the smaller blades into my back, along the right shoulder. He twisted it, shoving his weight behind the action, and though I tried to buck away from him, every movement created new waves of pain. I could feel heat running down my back as blood streamed from the wound.

"Still feel like keeping quiet?" A chuckle. "Other than the screaming, which is positively _delightful_."

"F...fuck...you," I spat out, feeling lightheaded from the pain.

The insult didn't phase him. Instead, he smiled even broader. "Suit yourself."

Seconds later, a second pain blossomed in my back, joining in with the pain from the first. My left shoulder was a mass of white hot agony. It felt like he had driven the blade in and dragged it down. I could feel my own blood trickling down my back and along my legs.

"I, of all people, know how sensitive a back can be," The man walked around to face me, eye to eye, and he cupped my chin with his hands, hands that were slick with my own blood. "Especially _yours_." He picked up the bigger blade and traced my jaw with it. "Care to reconsider?"

"Go to Hell," I snarled at him, as the adrenaline from the situation I was in gave me a bit of strength. "No matter what you do to me, I won't help you, and you can bet the others will come for me and..."

The rest of my defiance exploded in blinding pain as the man slammed the blade _into_ the left side of my head and, despite my earlier convictions, I nearly begged for him to stop. But the pain was so intense that I was unable to do anything else but shriek in pain.

The blade felt like it was twisting in my head, which pounded at the intrusion. Blood poured down the side of my head, falling along my chest in a torrent.

The torture felt like it went on forever, with more knives and other things adding to my suffering. Everything began fading to black, even though my screams had degenerated into pained whimpering. The haunting sound of the man laughing at me followed me straight to the point when I woke up. My eyes snapped open and I could swear I heard an echo of his laughter in my room. I felt a lingering whine of agony try, and fail, to escape my mouth. The most I accomplished was a brief bout of coughing. I wanted to bolt upright in bed, but I felt paralyzed. I squeezed my eyes shut, something I could do, forcing myself to _relax._

My heart was racing, pounding in my chest, which matched the pounding of the headache that seemed to spring out of nowhere. Though given the nature of my nightmare, I had to wonder if the headache inspired the nightmare, or vice versa. It took a four minutes before I could move. I knew this because I had opened my eyes and had been staring to the left at my alarm clock. I'd been unable to look away.

At precisely 3:05, I could move, but it was realizing _how_ my body was positioned that almost froze me again. It was exactly like in the dream. No, the **_nightmare_**. My hands were up, against my headboard, with my fingers curled tightly into fists. The topsheet was tight across my waist. My legs were weighed down by my body pillow. How the hell had that gotten down there?

A deep sob worked its way from my mouth, and I shoved my hands over my mouth to keep it there. Turning over to lay on my side brought its own pain, this time in my shoulders and slightly in my lower back.

"What the fuck," I whispered hoarsely, almost crying from the sudden spurt of pain. " _What_ is going on?"

Wincing, I forced myself to sit up and creep out of bed. I needed aspirin in the worst way. As I stumbled down the hallway, using a mini-flashlight for a light source, I wondered about the nightmare. I'd had nightmares before, of course. Who hasn't? This was the first time I'd had one where I was tortured and possibly killed.

My reaction to the nightmare made me glad that dad was a heavy sleeper. I didn't need him asking me if I was okay or whatever. It would've just made me feel worse. I'd been bitchy lately because of the Beast. It wasn't fair of me to take out my irritation on dad, but he was there. He took it, without complaint, and he was so easy going. Damn, I was lucky to have a dad like him.

Once I got to the kitchen, I turned the lights on. Dad slept with an eye mask and earplugs, plus he kept his bedroom door shut. He'd never know I was up. Filling a glass with water from the tap, I washed down three aspirin, then I grabbed a cookie. Didn't want to get a tummyache along with my headache.

As I stood there, enjoying the slight chocolate rush provided by a Keebler Grasshopper cookie, my thoughts turned to the events of the day and evening. There was the Beast, telling me he was an alien robot stuck in the shape of a car, then loads of homework, then dad asking me if I wanted to watch a movie...

 _Of course,_ I snorted at my own stupidity. _The movie! I bet it influenced my nightmare somehow. Spy movie, regardless of what happens, triggers other spy things. Spies get caught, they get tortured for information. Sometimes they don't make it. But I woke up, so I made it, right? I'm sure it was just a nightmare._

But as I put the glass I'd used in the sink, I felt apprehensive and uneasy.

I really didn't want to go back to bed.

xoxoxoxoxoxo

"Do I _have_ to go to school today?" I was seated at the kitchen table, but slumped forward, resting my chin on my arms. "I had a horrible nightmare that kept me up all night." True. I last looked at my clock at 5:56, and ended up dragging myself out of bed an hour later.

Dad, who had looked utterly uninterested at my whining, looked over at me when I mentioned the word nightmare. "What about?"

"Stupid stuff," I muttered as I nudged my glass of orange juice. "I really shouldn't watch spy movies before I go to bed."

"Did you kill a bunch of people and get away with it?"

Sitting up, I glared at my dad. "No. Why would you think that would be a nightmare?"

"Why would you think it wouldn't be a nightmare?"

"Of course it would be a nightmare!" I scoffed. "Killing is stupid. Doesn't solve the problem."

"So you didn't kill anyone?" He cocked his head to the side. "Or if you did, did you get caught?"

"I didn't kill _anyone_ in my nightmare," I rolled my eyes. "Thanks for the vote of confidence."

"So what happened?"

I fixed him with a look. "You're actually interested in a bad dream?"

"Yeah."

"I don't wanna..."

"If you talk about it," he interrupted me, "it can make it easier to deal with. Obviously it's still affecting you."

Absently, I reached up, rubbing at my shoulder. "I think that in my dream, nightmare, that I was a spy or something. I wasn't very good, since I got caught."

At his non-committal sound, I continued.

"I was tied up to a, to a pole, or something. A man was there and he tortured me. Stabbed me in the back and," I rubbed at and then lightly tapped at the side of my head, feeling a phantom dream pain. "Right here. It hurt like a bitch, but I died. I think I died. I mean, how can you survive a knife getting shoved into your head? And then he got me with other knives, and other stuff. But I died without telling that asshat anything that he wanted me to."

Dad's eyes hadn't left me once when I spoke. "He was torturing you to get information?"

"That's what they do in spy movies, right?"

"Well, yeah, but..." He trailed off, then nodded. "Right, right, the movie."

"Uh huh, it took me a second to remember that, too," I shrugged. "Spy movie, spy nightmare. I wanted to destroy that guy in the worst way though. Barring that, I wasn't telling him a thing other than to go..."

Dad looked at me. "Kai? To go what?"

"I told him to go to hell," I said brightly. "So, can I stay home?"

"Not a chance, kiddo," Dad stood up, grabbing his mug for a coffee refill. "You have to go to school and I have things to do." He put his mug under the Kureg and popped in another k-cup. "I'm real close to a breakthrough and, once I do, things should start to go a lot smoother."

"Really? That's really great."

"If you want, you can take the Beast to school today."

For a split second, the thought of taking Mister Chatterbox to school with me was the last thing I wanted to do. Then I realized that the school parking lot, with its multitude of teenaged drivers, and eight hours of mindless sitting around in said parking lot, could be a lot of fun. For me, of course.

Plus, I was hoping I could bump into Drake again. I'd seen him a week after I saw him at the store, and he'd actually acknowledged me. In front of other popular kids.

Still, I had to tease my dad a bit. Don't want to get rusty, you see.

"Sure, why not rub a little more salt in my wound of life?" I said it dramatically, pressing the back of my right wrist to my forehead like the diva I was. "Not only do I have to go to that hell hole, I have to do so in the very worst Ford had to offer eighteen years ago."

He was unimpressed. "You can always take the bus," he said dryly. "I hear it's supposed to rain."

"Fiiiiiiiiiine, I'll go get ready," I grumbled with only slightly mock irritation. "Leave the keys on the table, next to ten dollars for lunch." I breezed out of the room dramatically.

"You're not allowed to leave school grounds," he called after me.

"Leave a note of approval next to the keys and the money!"

xoxoxoxoxoxo

When I'd gotten back to the kitchen, it was to see a note next to the demanded keys and money. The note offered permission for me to go off campus, so long as I bought my dear old dad something to eat as well. As if anything from any fast food place would survive in a high school long enough to get home. And that was if there was even a fridge available to a student. And there wasn't.

Dad was already gone, locked in his Den of Doom, as he whiled away at whatever invention, or inventions, his sometimes boss had ordered. That there was even an order at all was amazing. He was happiest while he was bringing his inventions to life. I was content with his happiness. I'd deal with the discomfort of school, of taking the Beast with me, if only to see him happy for a little while.

As I walked out to the driveway, I continually pressed the unlock button on the remote, and the Beast continually ignored me. I stopped at the driver's door, irritated with the already high amount of humidity in the air. "I know you're doing this on purpose," I glared at the robot in disguise. "Is this payback for all the times I called you stupid?"

"Along with the times you have kicked me, slapped me, shoved empty food wrappers under my seats, and used icy cold water to wash me?" The Beast sounded all sorts of snide. "Yes."

"Yeah, well dad told me to take you to school today."

"Your high school? Absolutely not."

"You don't have a choice," I tugged on the handle, which remained locked. "He said I take you. So let's go. Let's do this."

"Well, if he said so, then by all means, come inside."

I heard the doors unlock. "Really? Okay..."

As I grabbed onto the door handle, I heard the doors lock again.

"No, not really."

Looking at my surroundings, I saw Mrs. Johnson, from two houses down, pick up her paper from her walkway. The woman waved at me, so I plastered a fake smile on my face and waved back. Once she was inside, and no one else was around, I glared at the car. "Listen, asshole, I have to go to school now, so _open the fucking door_!"

A second later I heard the doors unlocking and I yanked the door open. Luckily it opened. A couple of times, from way before the tree kissing incident, I'd thought the door was open but it wasn't. I've broken quite a few fingernails thanks to this car. Who is actually an alien robot...or so he thinks.

Slipping inside, I dropped my messenger bag on the passenger's seat and slammed the door shut. Jamming the key in the ignition, I twisted it harshly and was rewarded with the roar of the engine.

"You know, it _does_ hurt when you are rough like that."

I blinked. "What, you can feel that?"

"Regardless of your personal feelings towards me, I _**am**_ sentient and I _**do**_ feel everything within my body."

I blinked again. "Okay, when you put it like that, it's gross."

"Try not to be so rough next time."

"Yeah, okay, I'll try." I reached down to put the a/c on and was rewarded with that familiar chill (after a little warmth - it was in the morning but still...Florida...). It was when I went to put the radio on that shit began hitting the fan.

A man's voice filled the car's interior. _"_ _Your cheatin' heart_ _, will make you weep. You'll cry and cry, and try to sleep. But sleep won't come the whole night through. Your cheatin' heart will tell on you..."_

"What the..." I switched channels as I drove, but station after saved station (and I could see that the digital numbers displayed the correct stations) played nothing but country music.

 _"Bluuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuue mooooooon I'm sooooo lonesome for yooooou..."_

 _"I dug my keys into the side of his pretty little souped up four wheel drive..."_

 _"They'll call you a hero or a traitor but you'll find out that, sooner or later, nobody in this world is gonna do it for you..._ _"_

"Dude!" I exclaimed, while stopped at a red light and mashing preset numbers. Still just country music. "What gives?"

"Another cold water bath like the last one, and I am afraid my radio will no longer play the popular candy sweet tunes you so emphatically sing along with." The smug tone of voice grated on my last nerves. " _Poorly_ , I may add."

"And you know I hate country music." I frowned, thought mostly at the comment about my singing. I'm not _that_ bad. The **_American Idol_** karaoke game said so. "I'm beginning to think you're one of the bad guys. You know, if you really are an alien car robot. Carbot."

"I am merely a being looking out for his wellness." A pause. "No more cold water?"

"Yes, _fine_ , no more cold water," I eased the car into traffic as the light turned green. The thought of having a country song stuck in my head all day was terrifying. "I promise."

"Your word as your bond."

"I swear on my sanity that I will wash you with water at whatever temperature preference you desire at the time of washing!" School wasn't that far away, and I needed _something_ to get the country music out of my mind! " _Please_ , put on something good!"

"Many people consider country music to be quite good and..."

"Just play whatever my favorite station is playing! _**PLEASE**_!"

The music changed to Kelly Clarkson's Heartbeat Song and, while it wasn't great, it wasn't country. I relaxed instantly. "Oh, thank you, thank you!"

Then the school parking lot came into view and I heard the Beast muttering softly to himself.

It kind of sounded like a prayer.

xoxoxoxoxoxo

Songs used:

Hank Williams "Your Cheatin' Heart"

LeAnne Rimes "Blue Moon"

Carrie Underwood "Before He Cheats"

Garth Brooks "Do What You Gotta Do"

xoxoxoxoxoxo

So, real life is blah right now, and it's possible that I might not get a chapter out next wednesday, but I'll try my hardest. I'm trying to get a research paper done. It's my first, so, I know mistakes are gonna happen.

I really hope you all liked this chapter!


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